Aug 30 What Happened to my Hobbies?

Once upon a time, I did many things. I went to school and worked hard, yes, but I also played sports. Three of them. Soccer. Basketball. Softball. In high school, I was the captain of all three teams and nothing made me happier than slipping into my Dalton uniform, playing an afternoon game, and coming home bruised and grass-stained and smiling. I also played the trumpet. In the orchestra and in various jazz groups.

I also collected things. Cabbage Patch Kids and baseball cards and Absolut Vodka ads. (Anyone else on this third one? This seems bizarre now.)

I set up lemonade stands in front of my house. I made jewelry out of tiny toys with friends. I played jacks and jump-roped.

I did things.

Now. Now I am doing things too. I am raising two wonderful, energy-zapping little girls. I am writing words here and elsewhere. I am ingesting embarrassing amounts of terrible television. (Yum. Yuck. Yum.) I am making to-do lists and running errands and checking Facebook and floating tweets and bemoaning the fact that I no longer have hobbies.

What happened? When I was a kid, I did so many things and indulged in such a variety of activities. Now that I am a big girl and have kids, not so much.

Is this just what happens? Am I in a stage of life where my most important purpose is raising and rearing creatures and finding them happiness and hobbies? Will there come a time when our kiddos are a bit older and Husband and I reunite with our hobbies or find new ones? I don't know. But I hope so.

Who knows... Maybe ten years from now, I will be captain of a Central Park soccer league, have a gig playing trumpet at a famous jazz bar downtown, and sell organic free-squeezed lemonade at the local street fair. But will this be as cute as it once was, or will it have midlife crisis written all over it?

Am I the only one who has lost her hobbies along the way? Or am I viewing things through the wrong lens? Perhaps the fact that I no longer do the things I once did and enjoyed is not in itself problematic. Maybe, just maybe, I should realize that I have embraced new hobbies. (Dancing with little girls before bath, picking outlandish wallpapers, having conversations with Husband, writing blog posts, etc.)

Are my words today just further evidence of my allergy to adulthood, my unwillingness to embrace the stage of life in which I sit squarely? It's entirely possible.

(Childhood was awesome, huh?)

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Did you do many things as a child? What were those things?

Have you been able to maintain a healthy dose of hobbies?

Do you think this loss of hobbies is about adulthood or parenthood or both?